


be who you want to be - stenbrough ficlet

by lavishsinclair (orphan_account)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: (stan spoiler), Bill Denbrough Loves Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris are Best Friends, Bill Denbrough is a Good Friend, Bill Denbrough-centric, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Dead Stanley Uris, Gen, IT Chapter Two Spoilers, Stanley Uris Loves Bill Denbrough, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, Stanley Uris-centric, bev and eddie are mentioned, can be interpreted as a ship, everything in both movies happened, just when they're 15, movie universe, none of the other losers are featured, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:10:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lavishsinclair
Summary: Even if Richie was Stan's best friend, he needed support from someone else. Someone he could come to in a desperate time of need. Someone who would hold him tight and say everything will be okay. That someone is Bill Denbrough.(check the tags)





	be who you want to be - stenbrough ficlet

The sound of a knock on the front door rang through the Denbrough house, alerting the eldest son Bill, who was sitting in the empty living room. Slightly frustrated about his writing process being interrupted, he groaned as he placed the small black pocketbook down onto the coffee table. It was early Saturday morning, Bill’s favorite day of the week. Saturday meant he could just lounge around in his favorite baby blue robe with no one to bother him. His parents decided to work overtime on Saturdays, which was perfectly fine with him. He just wishes someone else was with him. Someone he still missed dearly… 

He was quickly shaken out of his thoughts as another knock rang out. He rushed to the door, ruffling his nest of auburn hair. After a quick glance into the peephole, he swung open the front door, revealing Stan, one of Bill’s best friends.

15-year-old Stanley Uris was simply known as the son of the town rabbi, nothing more, nothing less. Bill wasn’t used to seeing him look this frazzled. His normally parted curly hair was a mess, curls falling on his forehead and poking out from under his kippah. The boy’s hands were desperately clutched to the arms of his signature blue button-up that appeared to be wrinkled and untucked from his khakis. He never liked disorderly clothes.

“H-hey, what a-are you d-d-doing here?” Bill managed to let out, taking in the other boy’s appearance. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Stan to come over or anything, it was simply unexpected. He was normally busy with practice on early Saturdays. “S-shouldn’t you be w-with your d-d-dad?”

“Can I just come in?” Stan had flinched at the last word. Bill nodded and stepped aside to let the boy enter, then closing the door behind him. Bill led him to where he was previously sitting, patting the couch cushion next to him as he sat down. Stan obliged, sinking into the cotton underneath the plaid pattern. “I’m just… tired.”

“Bull.” Bill commented, sitting cross-legged. “You l-look really p-pissed, what h-h-happened?”

“Fine.” Stan sighed, replaying the moment in his head.

\---

“Stop.” Rabbi Uris interrupted, rubbing his face with his palm. “God, get it together, Stanley! The hell’s wrong with you, boy? Is it that hard? We’ve been doing this for years, you’ll never be the future rabbi if-”

“Can you just stop fucking patronizing me?” Stan interrupted, slamming his hands on the work desk in front of him. This was how most Saturdays went in the Uris household. Andrea was busy with laundry and cooking downstairs while Donald commonly helped Stan practice his knowledge of jewish history and Hebrew. Donald had basically set his son’s future into stone, claiming that all this practice would help him become a proper Rabbi in the future. “I get it, I fucking suck at this, you don’t have to repeat it every day!”

“Don’t use that type of language with me, son.” Donald scolded, glaring at his son intensely. “I never said that you were bad at th-”

“Are you serious? You imply it every Saturday, dad! ‘Stanley, practice translating these short sentences,’” Stan mocked. “‘Do this, do that! Oh, you messed up on this one tiny goddamn thing! Be better!’” He put all of his inner bitterness into the words he screeched out, his cheeks glowing red. The hardback cover of the Hebrew help book was slammed shut, the desk chair being pushed back as Stan stood up. He headed out of his father’s office, making his way through the living room to reach the front door. His every footstep was followed by Donald, who grabbed his arm before he could reach the doormat.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me. I don’t know who you think you are, young man, but I did not raise you this way.” He scowled, keeping his grip Stan’s wrist tight as he attempted to wriggle away, his strength fueled by his exasperation. In a moment of anger, Stan was able to fully wriggle away, pushing his father then opening the front door to escape. When his father scampered through the door, he was already crossing the road. Stan didn’t stop running until he reached his destination.

\---

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Bill assured, grabbing his hands and rubbing them softly. “You don’t d-deserve that. You r-really don’t, you’re great.” Stan’s tense hands melted in his touch. He had always been one who didn’t particularly like physical affection, except when it was from someone he trusted dearly. It has always been this way; one of them wasn’t having a good day, the other comforted them in any way possible. Like when Georgie had first died, Bill went to Stan for reassurance and serenity. They were each other’s safe space.

“I’m not great at speaking Hebrew. He just doesn’t realize I want to do something else with my life rather than be stuck in this shithole.” Stan began to explain, staring into the eyes that mimicked the color of a blue jay. “When I told him I wanted to go into ornithology, he laughed at me. The study of birds.” He quickly explained before the other could ask. “I just wish he would accept me for who I am. Not make fun of my interests. You know, support me like a father. Maybe I just am stupid for thinking-”

“You’re not stupid at all, Stan. You’re one of the most brilliant and brave people I’ve ever met. You’re not afraid to speak your mind and confront someone at all. Who else would tell their parents off like that?” Bill claimed, grasping onto his hands tightly in the same way his father did merely 15 minutes ago. This time, it was way more comforting.

“Eddie and Beverly.” Stan chuckled, the first time he had shown a smile since he arrived.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you for it. A few years ago, you would’ve just stayed in the shadows. Now, you’re finally stepping into the light, making yourself known. Being independent, expressing yourself. That’s development, Stan.” Bill finished, taking in Stan grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t be scared to be who you want to be. The only standards you have to live up to are your own.”

Before he could add any more words of encouragement, he was engulfed in the other boy’s arms, curls pushed into his face. He finally wrapped his own arms around the boy, clenching onto the back. They were sinking into their own world, a realm made of silence and tranquility. Bill’s blue robe released the aroma of lavender laundry detergent into Stan’s nostrils as he inhaled, unconsciously soothing him. The thin fabric of his button-up reminded Bill of his bedsheets, the scent of Stan’s shampoo helping reduce his tension. After a few minutes of the out of world experience, Stan finally pulled away slowly, rubbing his eyes and giggling.

“W-what?” Bill asked, almost laughing himself as he watched the other boy’s face light up. 

“Nothing, it’s just… you didn’t stutter once.” Stan commented, Bill’s pale face turning a light shade of pink. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s developed, huh?”

“Yea, I guess so.”

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Anytime, Stan.”

\--- 

Bill never expected this to happen.

When he got that call, he was anxious to see his childhood friends after 27 years.

Especially one.

One he remembered in each of his memories.

But when the 7th member of their group didn’t show up, he knew something was wrong.

His suspicions turned out to be right.

Each of their fortunes read a single word, forming together to create a sentence.

A horrifying sentence.

I guess Stanley couldn’t cut it.

\---

Bill wiped his eyes, tear stains splattered on the letter he held in his right hand.

His mind kept repeating the same lines over and over again.

‘Be who you want to be. Be proud. And if you find someone worth holding on to, never, ever, let them go.’

He should’ve held on.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed my first published ficlet, it was kind of all over the place, i was rushing
> 
> feel free to leave any comments, questions, or suggestions for me in the comments
> 
> thank you for reading <3


End file.
